Dear Kathryn
by Choctawfilly CK
Summary: At home Mark gets some disturbing news.


Title: Dear Kathryn

Author:CK

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Not mine, just letting them out to play.

Authors Note: I wondered how Mark must have felt upon hearing what should have been happy news.

I stood there, looking into the accusing grey eyes of her sister. I know what she said, but it didn't make sense. "She's alive?"

"Yes. Alive." Phoebe was angry; there was no getting around it. "Alive and well."

I swallowed hard and shook my head. There had been a part of me, one that couldn't let go. My Kath was alive… only, she wasn't mine anymore. She couldn't be. I was a married man. The words hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt my legs buckle.

"Sit, Mark honey." Gretchen moved to make sure I sat down on the couch and not the floor. She sat next to me, her hand in mine. Her blue eyes held the joy and pain of this day. "She will understand." Her voice was soft and comforting. She had always been good to me. Always ready to stand up for me, even to Kathryn.

"How can she?" I looked down, feeling the tears begin to fall. "I gave up on her. I should have known better."

"Yes you should have." Phoebe's voice was cold and hard. I'm not sure if she was using this as an excuse to be mad at me, she never liked me, or if she was genuinely angry that I had moved on. "Kathryn is out there alone, probably relying on you and the memories of you to survive… and now she will have to know how you betrayed her."

Her words cut me like a knife. Not because I had ever needed Phoebe's approval, or even that I cared what she thought. It was that what she said was true. I had betrayed the woman I had loved for more than two decades. From the first time I saw her on the tennis courts when we were children, I knew I would do anything for her. She had been my friend and then my fiancée. I looked over at the sleeping lump of red hair, Molly. I still had her. I held tight to her for so long. And on some dark stormy nights, I still did. "I'm sorry." It was all I could manage.

The front door opened and Carla entered. My beautiful young wife who had helped me mourn and heal. Molly jumped up and ran to her, tail wagging and I wondered if that would be any indication as to how Kathryn would feel about her. "Even turned her dog against her." Phoebe was hot now. I had in the past seen Phoebe angry, this angry, but never with regards to her sister. To be honest, I wasn't sure just how Phoebe felt about Kathryn. Until today. I could see the love and pain in her now. "I can't be here." Tears now fell from her gray eyes. "I will see you at home, Mom." And with that Phoebe Janeway left.

Carla looked at Gretchen and me as though she were afraid of some terrible news. "Mrs. Janeway, is everything ok?"

Gretchen looked at Carla, a smile on her lovely face. She had taken to Carla right away. I had told the family when I fell in love with Carla. Gretchen had smiled and pat my arm. She told me Kathryn would want me to be happy. And as long as I was, so was she. She had even gone so far as to have us for dinner a few times. "Despite the way it looks, everything is more than ok." She seemed to take a moment to way her words. Gretchen Janeway was not a woman to misspeak or purposely upset someone. "Voyager has contacted Starfleet through a series of satellites or something like that. And apparently, Voyager had contacted them earlier with a holographic doctor." She shook her head. "I don't know all the details. All I know is that Owen said Voyager was ok. Her crew and Captain are alive and well in the Delta Quadrant."

Carla's eyes lit up with joy. "Oh, Mrs. Janeway, that's wonderful." She walked over and threw her arms around the older woman. "I'm so happy for you."

Gretchen laughed softly. "Thank you dear." And for the first time I had ever heard, she said something before thinking of the ramifications. "I can't wait for Kathryn to meet you."

Carla suddenly when pale. "Meet me?" She sat down on the couch, Molly at her side. "She would want to meet me?" She looked suddenly frightened, her hazel eyes on me now. "She'll hate me."

Gretchen shook her head. "No sweetie, she won't. She'll like you. I know she will." She placed her free hand on Carla and squeezed. "I'm her mother, I know these things."

"She'll hate me." The words fell out of my mouth. I could see the pain in Kathryn's deep blue eyes at the act of my betrayal.

"Now, Mark Johnson, I think you know her better than that." Gretchen's voice had gotten firm. "I'm not sure I like this line of thought." She stood up and walked to the center of the room. She stood facing away from us for a few seconds before turning back and looking into us with those deep blue eyes… Kathryn's eyes. "I think you both are underestimating my daughter. Kathryn is a good and caring woman. She is also reasonable. She wouldn't expect you to be waiting for her. Not after so many years without knowing what had happened."

"I don't want to hurt her…" I looked down at my hands, the gold band shining, and wondered how I could manage to do that.

"Have you considered that she might have fallen in love out there?" Gretchen's words hit me hard. Would Kathryn do that? I looked up at her.

"Do you think she did?" I saw Carla watching me from the corner of my eye. "I mean, she would never get involved with a crewman." I know she's a stickler for the rules. And she once told me she was done being involved with Starfleet personnel."

"Not all of them are Starfleet." Gretchen moved back to me. "Let's let her send us a letter before we speculate anymore." She knelt down in front of me. "Owen said he wants letters from the families to send in the next transfer. I want to give my spot to you. Let her know how you feel and that you moved on. She deserves to hear it from you." She pat my hand. "Don't lose her friendship, Mark." I let the tears fall then. She was right.

Later that night, after tossing and turning I walked to my desk and pulled a padd from the drawer. I wasn't sure what I would say but with a deep breath and a heavy heart I began, "Dear Kathryn…."

Fin


End file.
